


Lost at Sea

by supercasey



Series: Fallout 4 One-Shots [4]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Past Character Death, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, curie please give hancock and danse therapy, these guys need a lot of therapy first, they need it so bad, this fic gets a bit rough but i promise there's no death, trans hancock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercasey/pseuds/supercasey
Summary: “Have you ever, like,” Hancock pauses to scratch the back of his head, an action that makes it seem like he’s stalling. “I dunno… wanted it to end? Like, you don’t wanna be the one pullin’ the trigger, but you sorta sometimes wish you’d be a little sloppy? That the other guy would win, just this once?”“I…” Danse takes a second to respond, somewhere between horrified and all too understanding of his companion’s plight. “I, um…” He can’t even get it out, too shocked still by the realization that he might somehow be talking to someone more suicidal than him, and that’s saying a lot.“Oh,” Hancock says it in such a deadpan manner, it’s made clear that he believes he just said the wrong thing in the wrong company. “Oh shit. Um… can we forget I said that? Please?”~~~After the events of Fish Food, Danse and Hancock have a conversation while bathing in the lake near Sunshine Tidings. Things don’t get as kinky as Hancock pretends he wants them to, but their talk is well-worth having, possibly even life saving.
Relationships: Paladin Danse/John Hancock (Fallout)
Series: Fallout 4 One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/407299
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	Lost at Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I’m playing Fallout 4 again, so it’s time to go apeshit about these two and the relationship (whether romantic or platonic) I wish they had post-Blind Betrayal… one motherfucker commented on the last fic (Fish Food, which you really oughta read if you wanna get most of the references in this one) saying they liked it, so that’s enough encouragement to make my self-indulgent ass write a sequel. Sorry if this gets a bit angsty btw (if it wasn’t already obvious from the description), but I’ve been having a pretty shitty time lately, and it’s comforting to vent through Hancock and Danse.
> 
> ((While editing this after finishing the fic, I listened to the song No Below by Speedy Ortiz, and gosh dang does it fit Danse/Hancock… so now I'm crying while rereading the fic for errors and also I'm throwing in lyrics because it's really good, please check it out, y’all!))

_ "How I once said, I was better off as being dead _

_ Better off as being dead, I didn't know you yet _

_ And you might've said, you were better off just being dead _

_ But I'm looking out for you, my friend, I'm looking." _

Danse can’t sleep. In retrospect, this isn’t all that unusual for him. Between a childhood spent wandering the ruins of DC as an orphan, the Brotherhood of Steel hammering a near constant sense of paranoia into his brain, and after the many sleepless nights spent holed up in Cambridge for three months straight… yeah, Danse has never had an easy time sleeping, and even if the world  _ weren’t  _ a nuclear wasteland, he’s pretty sure the universe would still burden him with insomnia, just because it hates him. As a result, the ex-paladin finds himself awake in bed at the dead of night- X6-88 is out cold in the bunk a few feet away from his own, somehow finding peace on such a troubled night- unable to quiet his mind long enough to pass out. Despite his best efforts not to, Danse finds himself continually dwelling on the events of his fishing trip with Sole, Nick, and Hancock, desperate not only for a distraction, but also to relive the adventure in his mind. What had started as a weekend trip guaranteed to make Danse wonder why on earth he chose to join up with Sole and their people quickly turned into a medical emergency, and whether the soldier wants to admit it or not, the whole situation still has him pretty shaken up, even if the others think he dusted it off as nothing… unfortunately, it had a far scarier effect on Danse than he ever would've liked.

_ “Oh my god! HANCOCK!” Sole’s screaming at the top of their lungs, trying to frantically climb out of their power armor, despite the fact that they can’t swim for shit. “Oh god, oh god, oh god! Someone has to help him!” _

_ “Aw crap,” Nick curses, looking just as ready to jump into the water, but he can’t swim any better than Sole… well actually, he CAN swim, but he knows the water would damage his already very sensitive cybernetics, and besides, he can’t risk electrocuting Hancock while trying to save him. He runs for the captain’s cabin instead, searching for something that can help. “Does Kenji have a life preserver on this blasted thing!?” He asks aloud, trying to find one while there’s still time. _

_ Danse doesn’t even say anything; just acts on his adrenaline. He dives headfirst into the water below the boat, going in only a minute or so after Hancock went under. Although the ocean is unnaturally dark, on account of severe pollution and radiation poisoning, the soldier can still make out Hancock’s vibrant red frock coat through the darkness. He swims hesitantly towards the ghoul, for fear of attracting unwanted attention from any water dwelling mutants, but when nothing comes for him or the other man, Danse wastes no more time in reaching Hancock. He wraps his arms around the much shorter man’s torso, kicking his legs to carry them back to the water’s surface. To Danse’s horror, Hancock doesn’t react in the slightest to being grabbed, already unconscious. Even if it’s rare, the ex-paladin chalks it up to either Hancock hitting his head on the way down, or just from the trauma of it all. Either way, Danse soon gets them above the sloshing waves, silently grateful that Hancock is so much smaller than him, or else this would be much harder than it already is. Thankfully, Nick found a life preserver, which he tosses out to his companions. Danse grabs ahold of it almost immediately, focusing on just holding Hancock while Sole and Nick drag him back onto the ship. _

_ The minute they’re settled on the deck, Danse lays Hancock down on his back, knocking off the ghoul’s hat as he continues to just obey his instincts. “Is he conscious?” Sole asks, too starstruck to do anything yet, their nervousness getting the best of them. _

_ “No,” Danse is curt in responding to Sole, too focused on pulling off Hancock’s jacket so that the sodden cloth won’t weigh him down anymore. “Does anyone here know CPR?” He figures he oughta ask, just in case he can get out of doing it himself. _

_ “I do, but seeing as I don’t need to breathe…” Nick trails off, glancing at Sole, who simply shakes their head in defeat. “Looks like it’s all up to you, Danse.” He says, and while he’d usually tease Danse for being so hesitant, he knows that now isn’t the time for jokes. _

_ “Alright, alright…” Danse dry swallows, hesitating a moment longer, but upon seeing the pained expression on Hancock’s face… he throws all caution to the wind, taking a deep breath before pressing his lips to the other man’s mouth, blowing air down Hancock’s throat while cupping a hand over the ghoul’s non-existent nose, the other pressing firmly on his chest. _

Back in the present, Danse finds his fingers brushing lightly against his lips, his heart thumping in his chest as he remembers that moment so  _ vividly…  _ Hancock’s lips hadn’t been as dry as he expected, still being soft like a normal humans, but chapped nonetheless. Danse snaps out of it at that thought, forcing his hand away from his mouth as his face takes on a rosy hue, which is thankfully hidden in the darkness of the cabin. To be daydreaming so blissfully about a disgusting fucking  _ ghoul…  _ Danse tries shaking it away, but even if he can ignore his attraction, he  _ can’t  _ ignore the fact that his feelings towards Hancock have changed drastically. Where he once saw a ghoulified adrenaline junkie who only causes trouble for him and everyone else in his life, Danse now sees a self-destructive freedom fighter who can’t seem to stop hurting himself, no matter how hard he tries. Much as he hates feeling anything other than hatred and disgust towards ghouls, Danse finds himself feeling…  _ odd,  _ about Hancock. He doesn’t think it’s love- at least, he sure as hell hopes it isn’t… he isn’t ready for something like that, not yet- but it’s still…  _ something.  _ Whatever it is, it makes Danse want to be alone with Hancock again, even if it’s just to chat for a few minutes.

Sitting up in bed, Danse gives his rival of a roommate a quick glance, trying to gauge whether the other synth is asleep or not. To his relief, X6 is out cold, his surprisingly loud snoring assuring Danse that he’ll stay that way until sunrise. Nonetheless, Danse is as quiet as a mouse as he slips out of his bed, mindful of how light a sleeper the courser is. Once out of bed, the ex-paladin goes about stealthily pulling on a shirt, as well as a pair of what he quickly realizes aren’t his jeans, but he’s too worried about getting caught to look for a pair of his own. Although it’s the dead of summer, and therefore dreadfully hot outside, even at night, Danse still feels the need to wear a layer or two, as he doesn’t want to risk someone seeing him in nothing more than his boxers and shoes. Sighing under his breath, Danse again glances at X6, fully expecting to see the synth asleep in bed still, but to his shock, not only is X6 awake, but the courser is right behind him, standing mere inches away from the soldier with an unhappy look on his face. More out of reflex than anything else, Danse let’s out a strangled yelp, hand moving for his laser pistol, but to his dismay, he left it on the nightstand; a rookie move to be certain, and if Elder Maxson still cared for him, he’d probably be embarrassed.

“Paladin Danse,” X6 is short with the soldier, his voice edging on irritated. “What are you doing out of bed? It is three twenty-two in the morning, and we are not scheduled to get up until exactly five o’clock in the morning.”

Danse bites down on his urge to curse X6 out for questioning him, something that is much easier said than done. “It’s… it’s nothing,” He tries to play it cool, but as Scribe Haylen has told him several times since meeting him, Paladin Danse is  _ anything  _ but cool. “I just need to… use the restroom, that’s all.”

X6 looks Danse up and down, his expression unreadable. “…Very well,” He deadpans, before shuffling back to his own bed; it’s only now that Danse sees the ridiculous pink bunny slippers on the courser’s feet, which are slipped off as X6 crawls back into bed. “Do be quieter when you return, won’t you? I won’t be as polite if you wake me again.” With that, X6 quite literally passes out on the spot, his snoring resuming as if nothing interrupted him.

Danse stares at X6-88 a moment later, half scared the synth will leap up and attack him, but when the other man simply continues to sleep, he let’s out a troubled sigh, leaving the cabin before his very presence wakes X6 again. Outside, Sunshine Tidings is blissfully at peace, the entire settlement dead quiet at this time of night. Although there are plenty of lights strung up around the settlement, namely on buildings and around the gardens, Danse still struggles to see properly, his eyes struggling to adjust due to the inconsistent lighting. Out of necessity, the soldier unhooks his cabin’s lantern from it’s perch on the door, lighting it with a match so he can see better. He practically tiptoes down the creaky wooden steps of his cabin, this being one of the few times he’s glad to be without his old power armor, or else he’d have no hope of keeping quiet. Off of his porch, Danse pauses, wondering what the hell he’s going to do now. He could always go to the mess hall, which has been converted to also house a small gym that’s frequently used by most of Sole’s companions, but Danse is worried he would wake someone up if he lifted weights in there, so he tosses that idea aside. Maybe he’ll just…  _ pace? _ He used to do that on the Prydwen; he can only hope it will be just as helpful now as it was then.

His mind still an unbearable mess, Danse walks silently around the large settlement, sneakily checking through the windows of other cabins to make sure everyone is safe, it being a habit it picked up early on in his life. Preston and Old Longfellow are out cold in their cozy little cabin, both men heavy sleepers, unbothered by the world around them as they dream. Cait and Piper seem to be fine in their cabin, though Cait tosses and turns in her sleep, finding the summertime heat to be rather bothersome, while Piper is very obviously awake, not so subtly using a flashlight to read a book under her bed covers. There’s another cabin nearby, home to Codsworth, Strong, and Curie, but seeing as Danse absolutely  _ hates  _ even _looking at_ Strong… he’ll just check to see if Curie is sleeping in the clinic again. Both to avoid seeing Strong, and just to be safe, he goes there next, and as expected, Curie is curled up on one of the clinic’s unoccupied beds, and to Danse’s surprise, Codsworth is powered down on the floor beside her; they probably fell asleep talking again. Danse smiles a little at the sight, mindful to tiptoe away, lest he wake them. Finally, he trudges towards one of the final houses, the largest cabin being home to Nick Valentine, MacCready, Deacon, and Hancock. Setting his lantern on the ground, Danse scuttles over to a nearby window, easily able to see inside when the ceiling fan’s light is abruptly turned on.

“Jesus, Nick… turn that dang light off!” MacCready shouts from the top bunk of his and Nick’s bunk bed, the mercenary trying valiantly to shield himself under his bedsheets, but it’s a lost cause. “Some of us actually need to  _ sleep  _ here!”

“Well, you  _ screaming  _ sure as hell doesn’t help…” Deacon mutters, his pillow held over his head to try and muffle MacCready’s yelling. “Just shut up, dude; he’ll turn it off in a sec.”

“He freakin’ woke us up again!” MacCready argues, his patience entirely gone. If Danse had to guess, this probably isn’t the first time Valentine has done this, and it looks like Macready is absolutely sick of it happening. “Come on, dude, this is the third day in a  _ row  _ you’ve done this crap! What’s the freakin’  _ deal!?” _

Nick, who’s trying to jot down notes at his desk, just scowls tiredly at MacCready, looking just as irritated as him, if not more-so. “I’ll turn it off as soon as Hancock gets back, alright? This late at night, I’m worried he’ll get lost on his way back from the lake.”

The _ lake? _ What the hell is Hancock doing at the lake? “Look, Nick,” Deacon tries to be the voice of reason, something even  _ he  _ seems uncomfortable with, judging by his tone. “You’re gonna be up all night anyways, right? Why not just turn off the light and go join him if you’re so worried about him getting home safe?”

Nick looks away for a moment, his expression guilt ridden. “I… I  _ can’t,” _ He says, sounding like he hates that this is the case. “He’ll just get mad if I try looking out for him again… better to just leave him be. Besides, it’s not like this is his first time running off on his own.” He says this like he’s been made to chase after Hancock many times, and seeing as he’s a detective… yeah, that wouldn’t really surprise Danse in the slightest.

Deacon huffs outright, also running out of patience, but thankfully for his roommates, he’s well-accustomed to negotiating. “Then how about this? Why not just leave a lantern on for him, alright? MacCready is right; we really gotta sleep, dude. ‘Sides, not like the lantern wouldn’t be bright enough for Hancock to see.”

“…Fine, you guys win,” Nick ultimately relents, though he still seems skeptical as to whether or not the lantern will be enough. Regardless, he stands, grabbing ahold of the small chain hanging down from the cabin’s ceiling fan. He only has to pull on it once, the only light source after being the glow of his robotic eyes as the cabin is shrouded in darkness. “There. You happy  _ now, _ MacCready?” He asks, still mad to have been yelled at by the merc.

“Yes.  _ Thank you,”  _ MacCready practically growls, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I swear, if you wake me up again, it’s  _ over  _ for you, Valentine.”

“Yeah yeah, just shut up and sleep, man,” Deacon mutters, only pulling off his sunglasses when he thinks no one is looking, placing them gently on his nightstand. “Night, guys… see ya in the morning.”

His only light being his desk’s candle, Nick returns to work, the light scribbling of a pencil on paper unknowingly lulling his roommates to sleep, Deacon and MacCready quickly falling back asleep as the cabin goes quiet. Careful not to draw attention to himself, Danse slips away from the cabin, unable to keep from glancing at a hill nearby, which he knows hides the lake behind it. What on  _ earth  _ is Hancock doing out of bed this late, especially near the lake? Is he trying to wash himself before daybreak? Considering what Danse now knows about the ghoul’s anatomy, he wouldn’t be all that surprised… actually, now that he thinks about it, Danse is fairly certain he’s  _ never  _ seen Hancock bathe before, despite everyone else washing together almost every other morning. For a moment, Danse considers leaving Hancock to do as he pleases, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, or worse, get involved if he wants to be left alone, but… his mind draws back to the fishing trip, and how the ghoul nearly drowned due to his recklessness. Suddenly, Danse finds himself growing irritated; what the  _ hell  _ does Hancock think he’s doing, washing up in the lake this late at night? Doesn’t he know how  _ dangerous  _ it is to bathe alone, much less under cover of darkness, when plenty of nasty mutants are on the prowl?

Growling under his breath, Danse climbs the hill without a second thought, wanting nothing more than to strangle Hancock for acting so damn foolish. However, once he reaches the peak, he again pauses, starstruck as he watches the scene before him. Hancock, as he thought, is in the water, a bar of soap in his hands suggesting he’s indeed just trying to take a bath before anyone else gets up. The ghoul’s clothes are in a messy pile on the dock of the lake, looking to have been thrown off and tossed aside without all that much carefulness. If that weren’t upsetting enough to Danse, he also spots a number of what he knows are empty Jet canisters and two small liquor bottles around Hancock’s clothing, meaning that the ghoul is most certainly high, as well as possibly drunk, too. Again, Danse finds himself growing quite angry, annoyed that Hancock would endanger himself to such an extent. Not caring about trying to keep a low profile anymore, Danse continues toward the lake, until he’s standing on the dock, overlooking Hancock’s mess. The soldier sets his lantern aside, kneeling down as he folds Hancock’s clothing with military precision, as well as neatly piling up the other man’s empty drug canisters and bottles farther away from the dock’s edge, for fear of them falling into the water; after all, this irradiated world doesn’t need even  _ more  _ fucking pollution!

By the time he’s done, Hancock has finally paused his erratic scrubbing, his dark, pupil-less eyes transfixed on the ex-paladin.  _ “Whoa… _ heya, Tin-can,” Hancock greets, his tone slurred and slow, further proving how drugged and out of it he is. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

“Apparently, I’m here to keep you from drowning…  _ again,”  _ Danse doesn’t know what comes over him to respond to Hancock. Really, he thinks he should just go back to bed and forget about the ghoul, but… well, it wouldn’t be right to leave him here by himself. “Honestly, what in the world were you  _ thinking,  _ trying to bathe while inebriated!? You’re lucky a Mirelurk hasn’t spotted you yet.” He scolds, not bothering to try and hide the bite from his tone.

Where Hancock once appeared interested, his expression quickly morphs into one of irritation, the ghoul sneering as he looks away, eyes full of malice. “God, you fucking sound just like  _ Sole,” _ He mutters, doing nothing to hide how much he hates being looked after. “What, you gonna try parenting me, too? If that’s what you’re here for, you may as well just split, brother… I don’t need you bringing me down right now.”

Danse stares at Hancock, mind buzzing with ideas as to what he should do next. One part of him wants to throw Hancock’s clothes into the water, sock the ghoul in the mouth for daring to disrespect him, go back to his cabin, and crawl back into bed like he never got up to begin with. The other, much louder and annoying part, wants to understand the strange man currently in his company. For so many years, Danse has had his brain conditioned to hate and detest mutants, whether they’re sentient or not, but now that he’s learned how much of his life was _fake…_ could even _more_ be false than he originally thought? Could ghouls be… _good?_ Although Hancock is undeniably an instigator, and loves to push his buttons to no end, Danse finds himself wanting to get closer to him. Hancock can try all he wants, but the soldier knows that he’s doing this all on purpose. Whether the ghoul will admit it or not, he doesn’t like people getting close to him. Correction, he doesn’t like the thought of being _abandoned,_ likely because he’s gone through abandonment of some kind before, so he does everything in his power to push people away until they give up or hate him, and it looks like his next target is Danse. Despite his own willingness to let Hancock crash and burn like the atom bomb he is, the soldier just can’t actually bring himself to do it… so he does what he has to in order to keep that from happening.

“May I join you?” The words leave Danse’s mouth after a few minutes of tense silence, the ex-paladin hardly aware he even said them.

Hancock freezes, having continued with his bath, as he thought Danse was going to walk away and leave him to his own devices. Slowly, the ghoul looks up at Danse again, fixing the other man with an uneasy look. “…You  _ serious?” _ He asks, incapable of keeping the disbelief out of his tone. “I mean, I’m all for getting naked with big, buff men, but last I checked, you still fuckin’ hate me. What, you finally willing to get in bed with a  _ zombie? _ Ready to lose your purity ring?”

Danse all but  _ balks,  _ face a rather fetching shade of crimson. Again, he counts himself lucky that it’s nighttime, or else he’d be even  _ more  _ tempted to run away and hide his blush. “Why must you make everything about sex?” He can’t help but ask, too embarrassed to say much else.

Hancock chuckles in good fun, his frustration completely gone, now that Danse seems to be willing to chill with him. “Hehehe… what can I say? Sex feels good,” He says, as if it’s really that simple. After a second of looking Danse over, he laughs again, this time quieter. “Come on, big guy; hop in.” He moves aside a little in the shallow water, openly inviting Danse to join him.

Danse hesitates a moment longer, before letting out a long, troubled sigh. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” He says, even as he pulls off his jeans, quick to fold them up and set them beside Hancock’s clothes, doing the same with his t-shirt. “I swear, if you try anything-”

“-Easy,  _ easy,”  _ Hancock urges, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I ain’t gonna do nothin’ without your permission, brother… I like to dance as much as the next guy, but not if my partners ain’t in the mood to get a lil’ footloose. Ya feel me?”

Danse rolls his eyes, using the opportunity to yank down his underwear, not nearly as careful about folding it before dipping into the water, as he doesn’t want to be exposed for very long if he can help it. Unfortunately, his eagerness to get in makes the shock of cold water on his naked body all the more unbearable, the man unabashedly shivering like a dead leaf, his hands hiding underneath his armpits as he struggles to regain some body heat. Again, Hancock chuckles at him, finding his expressiveness to be endlessly amusing. Regardless of this, the ghoul is still merciful, and while making full eye contact with his companion, he opens his arms to him, offering him a place to warm up. Danse is tentative, still worried about Hancock making this sexual, but with how cold the water is… he gives in, squeezing his eyes shut as he nods, scuttling a bit closer to the other man. Hancock smirks, quick to wrap his thin arms around the taller, bulkier man, the height difference dramatic enough that his forehead is bumped into Danse’s bicep, unable to quite reach his shoulder. Internally, Danse is tempted to laugh, Hancock’s shortness reminding him of how small Hayden is, but he can’t manage it, too busy shivering still.

“Sorry that I can’t help ya that much, my man… I ain’t exactly a furnace like Nicky is,” Hancock admits, surprisingly apologetic. “Still, it’s better than nothin’, right?”

Danse sighs under his breath, giving a slight nod. “Yes, it is… thank you, John.” He almost calls him  _ ‘ghoul’  _ like he used to, but he makes an effort to correct himself.

“Don’t mention it,” Hancock says, Danse able to feel his smirk against his skin. After a beat, the other man glances up, locking eyes with him. “Seriously, don’t mention this to anyone… don’t think my ego could take gettin’ teased by MacCready for this one.”

“Of course… he would probably give me hell, too,” Danse admits, feeling almost sick to his stomach at the thought. He hesitates, not sure if he should say something, but… well, after all he’s been through, he still feels guilty for his past behavior, and he figures if anyone deserves to be apologized to, it’s Hancock. “John… I, um,” He finds himself stuttering, unsure of how to go about this without coming off as too much of a martyr. “Look, I’m sorry for-”

“-Stop,” Hancock lays a hand over Danse’s mouth-  _ not as dry as he expected, but chapped nonetheless- _ silencing him in an instant. He waits a few seconds, the silence deafening.  _ “Look… _ I get that you feel like shit, and that you wanna make up for the way you treated ghouls… but you don’t always gotta be apologizing, alright? ‘Sides, if you  _ really  _ mean it, say you’re sorry through your actions, not your words.”

Danse can only nod from behind Hancock’s hand, so very tempted to open his mouth and taste, but again, he restrains himself. “You’re… you’re right,” He eventually mutters, voice weaker than it’s been in a long time. Is it because he’s at least a little turned on, or because of the guilt? He’s honestly not sure anymore. “Don’t worry, they’re… they’re  _ not  _ empty promises. I  _ will  _ make it up to you and the others, I just… I’m  _ still  _ sorry. For everything.”

Hancock looks slightly frustrated by the repeated apology, but he goes easy on him. “Apology accepted,” He says, tone gruff. He takes a minute to grab one of the Jet canisters from the dock, having to really reach for it. Once he has it, Hancock takes a long, yet desperate draw from the canister, savoring the feeling as it washes over him. “There…  _ much  _ better,” He says, giving Danse the laziest of smiles. “Sorry, brother, but you were seriously bringing the mood down… had to have a quick fix, you know how it is.”

“I really _ don’t,”  _ Danse points out, struggling to hide how uncomfortable he is with seeing Hancock do drugs. “Do you  _ really  _ need to be high this often? Or drunk? Aren’t you worried about addiction, or the other side-effects?” He pauses, realizing how intrusive his questions actually are. “My apologizes, I just… I can’t help but be concerned when you disable yourself with substances so often.”

Hancock takes it well enough, his recent use of Jet keeping him from getting as angry as he usually would. “Eh, I get it, my guy,” He admits, laying his head on Danse’s bicep again as he stares off into the distance, trying to ride out the high the best he can. “Drugs ain’t for everyone… but  _ me? _ If I wasn’t usin’, I’d probably be a much more miserable bastard,” He examines the Jet canister in his hands, giving it such a quizzical look. “I’ve been usin’ so long now, I figure quitin’ won’t actually help me all that much… besides, I’m a  _ ghoul,  _ remember? Far as anyone can tell, I’m gonna live forever!” He laughs, but the sound is hollow. “Yeah…  _ forever.” _ His smile is completely gone now, replaced with a disturbing numbness, as if Hancock is staring directly into a voidless plane of existence.

Danse pulls a face, giving Hancock an uneasy look. “You still shouldn’t endanger yourself,” He points out, that worry from earlier returning with a vengeance. Again, he finds himself wondering why Hancock is out here this late, high as a kite, drunk as a deadbeat, and practically  _ begging  _ a mutant to come and eat him. “John… why exactly are you _ out here _ this late at night? If you really needed a bath, why didn’t you stay sober for it? It’s too dangerous to be inebriated this late at night, especially alone!” He knows he needs to shut up right now, because his words are going to incite a fistfight if he’s not careful, but Danse can’t stop himself, his brain unable to decide if he’s more concerned or if he’s more angry with Hancock… at this point, it’s probably somehow both.

Hancock tries smiling again, attempting to come off as carefree, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth suggests he’s just about ready to throttle Danse. “Isn’t it _obvious?_ You saw for yourself, Mr. Lifeguard; I’m _trans_ , and I don’t wanna look at myself when I’m fuckin’ sober… easier to cope when I can’t think straight,” Suddenly, he laughs to himself, throwing his arms up in the air. “My life is a fucking _mess,_ brother!”

“SHH!” Danse tries to shush the ghoul, mindful of his volume. “You need to be  _ quiet,  _ John; we don’t need to be waking anyone up at this hour! You need to calm down.”

“I don’t need to calm down, man… maybe _you_ just need to learn to have some _fun!_ God, you are such a fuckin’ _bore,_ brother!” Hancock laughs at the ex-paladin, then, almost out of nowhere, he starts trying to use Danse as a step ladder, attempting to scramble onto the dock and make a mad dash for Sunshine Tidings. “Come on, brother; let’s grab the guys and have ourselves a party!” He clearly has no intention of putting back on his clothes while doing this, wanting to make his life worse by outting himself while shitfaced.

“John!” Danse yells, wrapping his arms around Hancock’s torso in an attempt to try and stop him. “John, you need to get ahold of yourself! Come on, soldier, this is no way to act!” He openly sighs, frustrated. “Jesus Christ, John, you’re  _ drunk;  _ you need to stop before you embarrass yourself. You’re going to regret this in the morning!” He keeps pleading with Hancock, hoping to get through to the ghoul.

Hancock just keeps on fighting with Danse, finally growing well and truly angry with the other man, so much so that he punches Danse square in the jaw, though it’s weak compared to his usual strength. Thankfully it’s not a knockout blow, but Danse is still rather flustered, shocked that Hancock would even go that far, but he still doesn’t give up on him just yet, intent on keeping the ghoul from embarrassing himself. Suddenly, Hancock plants his foot on one of the dock’s supporting beams, and with a shout, he kicks away from Danse, falling backwards into the lake. They’re in rather shallow water, considering Hancock’s inability to swim, but due to being inebriated, the ghoul begins to panic right away, flailing and shouting to try and save himself. Danse flies into action, adrenaline making him believe the situation is more dire, so much so that he scoops Hancock up in an instant, wadding back to shore with the still splashing ghoul. By the time they reach the edge of the lake, Hancock has gone worryingly still, eyes dilated as he lies motionless in Danse’s arms, the shorter man lost in his thoughts. Mistaking Hancock’s silence for unconsciousness, Danse again panics a little, laying the other man gently on the shore, and suddenly, it’s as if they’re back on the boat, Hancock sodden and shell-shocked while Danse rescues him from his own stupid mistake.

Danse snaps out of it within a few seconds, so at the very least, he doesn’t try performing CPR on the ghoul like he did last time. Slowly, with all of the laziness of a fat house cat, Danse lies down beside Hancock, worn out by the impromptu fight, wanting nothing more than to take a few minutes to calm down and rest his head. Hancock follows his lead, taking long, deep breaths as he tries so desperately to calm down, because even if he’s still drunk and a bit high, he doesn’t want to endanger the people around him- only himself- and he likely regrets the fight he just started. Quietly, the duo stares up at the stars overhead, the both of them finding the sight oddly…  _ peaceful.  _ Due to the old world’s excessive wastefulness, it’s hard to make out many stars, much less constellations, but the darkness overhead is still a blessing in it’s own right, promising the people below that, no matter their squabbles and fights, the world will continue on, with or without mankind as it’s apex predator. After the longest time, Danse let’s out a tired sigh, closing his eyes as he sits up, rubbing vigorously at his eyes. He wants to go back to bed so  _ badly, _ but… well, he knows Hancock is self-destructing, and he needs someone to stay with him, even if it lasts all fucking night. Because whether the ghoul likes it or not, Danse is here for him now, and he’s not giving up just yet.

“So,” Hancock, to Danse’s shock, is the one to break the silence, the ghoul’s voice weary as he loses his adrenaline rush. “That was, um…  _ something, _ I guess.”

“You almost outed yourself to everyone in Sunshine Tidings, but let’s be honest, you probably would’ve tripped over your own feet before you could there due to being too drunk… so yes, that was most certainly  _ something,”  _ Danse fights with himself internally, trying not to get too upset, but it’s hard when Hancock is so good at making him angry. “So… why did you try to do that? What was your thought process?” He’s genuinely curious, unable to imagine how Hancock could do something so  _ damaging  _ to himself.

“I… I don’t really know, to be honest. For the hell of it?” Hancock explains, still slurring to a degree, but he’s coming down from the high. He rolls over to face Danse, giving the ex-paladin a cautious yet confused look. “Why do you even _ care,  _ brother? Not like it’s your problem to deal with… if anything, it could’ve been funny for you to watch.”

“It becomes my  _ problem  _ when you endanger and embarrass yourself,  _ John…  _ we’re a  _ team  _ now, aren’t we?” Danse purposely avoids the word  _ ‘family’  _ to describe Sole’s gathered group of misfits, still not sure if he can handle that title yet. “If I had to watch you do something like that when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind, I would never forgive myself.”

Hancock openly scoffs, rolling his eyes, though it’s hard to tell. “Yeah right; I’m sure somethin’ like that would’ve been  _ hilarious  _ for you!” He says, and although he’s coming off as more angry than sad, Danse can tell that Hancock is close to breaking down entirely. “Everyone thinks I’m a fucking joke, so why the hell should I pretend I’m anything else? I don’t know what the fuck I am, so I may as well be what everyone expects me to be; a fuck up,” He sits up alongside Danse, staring off into the distance, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I’m sick of feeling like shit every time I wake up, I’m sick of Sole treating me like a charity case, and I’m sick of Nick looking at me like I’m the bastard he couldn’t save… I’m so  _ tired  _ of it, Danse.”

“Valentine?” Danse asks, clinging onto that admission. “What do you mean he acts like he couldn’t save you? If anything, I thought you two were close friends.”

“He’s sick of my shit, I can tell,” Hancock says, laughing like he’s proud of it, though it’s nothing to be proud of. “He’s been tryin’ to fix me for  _ years, _ tryin’ to make me quit usin’ and start livin’ instead, and look at all the good it’s done him… if I disappeared, it would be all the better for everyone involved.”

“John… what are you  _ saying?”  _ Danse knows damn well what Hancock is saying, namely because he’s been this low before- maybe he still is, because he hasn’t talked about it, and he really fucking needs to, but he’s certain no one would listen- but he needs more of a confirmation than this. “Are you saying you want to kill yourself?”

“Um…  _ depends,” _ Hancock sighs, looking away as he contemplates. “How do I phrase this… have you ever, like,” he pauses to scratch the back of his head, an action that makes it seem like he’s stalling. “I dunno…  _ wanted  _ it to end? Like, you don’t wanna be the one pullin’ the trigger, but you sorta sometimes wish you’d be a little sloppy? That the other guy would win, just this once?”

“I…” Danse takes a second to respond, somewhere between horrified and all too understanding of his companion’s plight. “I, um…” He can’t even get it out, too shocked still by the realization that he might somehow be talking to someone more suicidal than _ him, _ and that’s saying a lot.

“Oh,” Hancock says it in such a deadpan manner, it’s made abundantly clear that he believes he just said the wrong thing in the wrong company. Oh sure, he can hint at it all he likes without much fear, as he’s used to most everyone brushing it off as nothing, but Danse’s reaction is enough to sober him up enough to be cautious again. “Oh  _ shit. _ Um… can we forget I said that? Please?”

Danse considers agreeing, just to avoid talking about something this uncomfortable and personal, but he knows to do so would be like letting a Vertibird take off without any parachutes in the back. “John… I know how you  _ feel,” _ He confesses, feeling sick at the thought of talking about his feelings, but if anyone will understand, it’s someone with the same willingness to end their life as him. “As easy as it seems to just let yourself be killed, or throw yourself off a building, or willingly overdose… in the end, it’s just not worth it,” At this point, Danse doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince himself or Hancock that life is worth living, but in any case, he keeps going. “There are people here, whether we know it or not, that care about us, and even if we push them away, they’re still going to want us to get better, and they’ll continue being here for every step of the way. It’s not easy, I know that much, but… I think we can get better; I  _ know  _ we can get better. When we do, I only hope we’ll be there together, with our friends, who refused to give up on us,” It sounds rather sappy, and Danse knows he’s no poet, but he nonetheless hopes it will be enough to at least tide them over until sunrise. “It’s going to be hard, and I doubt it’s as simple as having a few conversations, but I know we can get through this, and that we can find a reason to stay alive.”

After the speech has finished, a heavy silence follows. Danse sits there, so unsure of himself, wondering if he said the wrong thing, if he should’ve just kept his mouth shut, if he should just get up and go back to bed. Ultimately, he lies back down on the grass, staring up at the stars for answers, seeing as his companion seems unwilling to give them. Within a few minutes of lying down, Hancock joins Danse on the ground, and although it’s dark and hard to see still, the soldier can just make out a few tears running down the ghoul’s face, something that honestly kind of surprises him; all this time, he never knew ghouls could cry. The realization hits Danse harder than he expected- perhaps because he already feels raw, or because he only now realizes how much pain he’s inflicted on sentient beings- and before he can stop himself, he’s also crying, though to his thankfulness, it’s a silent cry. That only goes to encourage Hancock, his tears falling more vigorously as he lies down, and with the slightest bit of hesitation, he rolls over and clings to Danse, trying to hug him. The ex-paladin considers telling the ghoul to fuck off, but in all honesty, receiving a hug sounds really freaking wonderful right now. Because of this, Danse slings one of his arms around Hancock’s small frame, the other acting as a pillow while he continues staring listlessly at the sky above him.

Again, it’s quiet, but once he’s gained his bearings, Hancock finally responds. “Uh… thanks for sayin’ all that, brother,” He whispers, trying to be quiet for the first time tonight. “Sorry I’m such a fuckin’  _ mess  _ lately… I swear, I’m not usually this shitty to be around.”

“It’s fine,” Danse says, though he knows it isn’t fine, not really. “You’re going through a lot right now… we  _ both  _ are,” He sighs under his breath, squinting up at one of the stars, it’s glow brighter than all the others. “You know, when I was a child, my friends and I used to rename the constellations, seeing as we didn’t know what their original names were… we’d make up stories about them, usually to see who could give everyone the biggest scare.”

“Really?” Hancock asks, curious. “My Pops used to do the same sort of thing with me and my brother, but it was more for comforting us…” He looks up at the stars as well, pointing up to one of the few constellations that can be seen. “You see that one? My Pops always called that one the Big Soup Spoon, and there’s another nearby that you can see on  _ really  _ clear nights… that one’s the  _ Little  _ Soup Spoon,” He smiles, lost in a memory that Danse almost wishes he could see. “You know, it’s funny… Pa always said that when the bombs dropped, some old lady and her granddaughter died in the blast, but because they ran a soup kitchen that fed all their neighbors for free, they became soup spoons in the sky. He said that, if you’re ever starving out in the wastes at night, just look up at the stars, and if you see the spoons, then you won’t be as hungry anymore,” Hancock suddenly laughs, the sound wet in his throat, suggesting he’s still crying, at least a little. “I honestly think he only told us that story because we went hungry a few times, and he didn’t want us to feel so fuckin’ hopeless.”

“That’s… very kind of him,” Danse says, finding the story oddly touching. Unfortunately, his parents died when he was very young, so he doesn’t have many fairy tales from them to comfort him like Hancock seems to. “It sounds like he was a very good father to you.”

“Yeah, my Pops was a really great guy… a little too naive for his own good, but he was still the best man I ever met,” Hancock brightens up as he talks about his father, further proving to Danse how close he was with him. “Can’t count how many times he gave away his food to total strangers… damn, I remember how Ma would get so fucking  _ mad  _ at him for that shit, but he’d always just smile and shrug, because he knew he did the right thing by helping people less fortunate than us. I miss him a hell of a lot, especially lately, but I know he died a good man, and that has to be enough for me,” He suddenly pauses, realizing how long he’s been rattling on about his father. “Aw  _ fuck…  _ sorry, brother, I don’t mean to get so fuckin’  _ weird, _ ‘specially after all you’ve had to deal with from me tonight.”

“It’s alright, John. Honestly, I don’t mind hearing about your past… it’s nice to know you’ve had some good people in your life,” Danse resists the urge to mention his own dead father, not wanting to make Hancock think twice about opening up in the future, for fear of his grief being compared to Danse’s own. “Do you want to hear some of my friend’s names for the constellations?” He may as well ask, since he figures it’ll get a laugh out of the ghoul.

“Of course; the least I can do for you putting up with my shit.” Hancock says, flashing the other man a toothy grin.

“I haven’t been putting up with  _ anything  _ since I pulled you out of the water, John,” Danse points out, but he nonetheless concedes. “When I was young, we thought those spoons were catapults, and that they flung spaceships across the solar system,” He smiles as he recounts the tale, because even if he can’t associate the stars with a good home life, he can at least associate them with his childhood friends. “There’s also a constellation we saw a lot more often in the Capital Wastelands, but I doubt you would be able to see it here at this time of year… it looked like a large person, with a belt of three stars around the torso,” Danse quietly chuckles to himself, certain Hancock will like this one. “Cutler used to say it was the first Super Mutant that ever existed, and that the three stars were skulls on his belt. He also said that on a full moon, if you closed your eyes and listened hard enough, you could hear him screaming in the night… Cutler decided it would be funny to scream in my ear the night he convinced me to try it, and I accidentally punched one of his front teeth out as a result.”

“That’s freakin’  _ great,” _ Hancock says, not doing anything to hide his laughter at the mental imagery. “Sounds like your friend Cutler was a real funny guy.”

“Yes… he  _ was,”  _ Danse admits, looking away with guilt in his eyes. “Honestly, you remind me of him quite a but… you’re both giant  _ pains  _ in my  _ ass.” _ He says it jokingly, his words holding no real venom.

“Aw, come on, don’t give me that!” Hancock argues, laughing as he playfully bats at Danse’s shoulder, missing him by a mile. “You just can’t get enough of smartasses, huh? Everybody’s got a type, brother.”

Danse laughs at first, the sound uproarious and full of enjoyment, yet all too suddenly, he’s filled with grief, his laughter dying without much time to last. Are these stories he’s telling Hancock even  _ real?  _ Were those long, cold nights out in the Capital Wasteland, the only things keeping Danse alive being his friends and a campfire, anything more than false memories programmed into his skull by the Institute? Is  _ anything  _ real at this point? He glances back over at Hancock, his heart feeling lighter than it has in a  _ long  _ time… maybe it doesn’t  _ have  _ to matter. Maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ it’s okay if nothing from his past was real, because right here, right now,  _ that’s  _ what matters, and  _ that’s  _ what’s real. Cutler is still important to Danse, and his memory, whether contrived or not, will always bring the soldier comfort in his darkest moments, but he knows, deep down, that he has so many  _ more  _ memories to create, seeing as it looks like he’s sticking around. Although Sole themself doesn’t even understand how much they’ve done for him, Danse feels as if he’s been born anew after learning the truth, and even if his life won’t play out how he originally wanted it to, with a lifetime spent fighting the Brotherhood’s countless enemies, it’s nice to know that at the very least, he won’t be alone. Watching Hancock laugh at his jokes, his smile so  _ genuine  _ and  _ warm…  _ for the first time in months, Danse feels hope.

He only prays that Hancock feels it too, for his own well-being.

“Danse? You okay?” Hancock pokes Danse between the ribs, trying to get the ex-paladin’s attention. “You there, brother? You’ve got the weirdest smile on your face, and something’s telling me you didn’t borrow any of my Jet.”

Danse is tempted to roll his eyes, but he’s too content to let Hancock ruin the mood, and he tells him as much. “Don’t bring down my  _ ‘high’, _ John,” He suggests, mimicking the ghoul’s words from earlier. “Just let me _ ‘ride it out’ _ in peace, won’t you?”

Hancock grins like a Cheshire cat, looking almost insane with excitement. “Oh my god, I’ve gotten the tightass to tell a _ joke? _ This is legendary,” He says, voice full of disbelief. “Does Sole still have that camera they stole from the Institute? I need photographic evidence if I’m gonna prove this to MacCready.” He leaps up, ready to run and look for himself.

“Hold it!” Danse warns, catching Hancock by the ankle. Unfortunately, this causes the ghoul to topple right on top of him, the men chest to chest on the ground. The two now at eye level, Danse gives Hancock a slight scowl, hoping it will knock some sense into him. “You’re still  _ naked,  _ remember?” He points out, before pausing, realizing all too soon that his own clothes are still on the dock with Hancock’s. “Oh  _ god…” _ It’s all he can manage, his face as red as a tato as he realizes how exposed he is.

Hancock laughs wildly, the jostling of his ribs easily able to be felt through Danse’s chest, the soldier only growing more embarrassed by the second. “Hahaha! Hey, it’s not like I’m the only one free-ballin’!” He exclaims, finding Danse’s humiliation amusing. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to out myself here…” He pauses like Danse did earlier, remembering what he almost did almost an hour prior. “Goddammit… I  _ really  _ almost outed myself to everyone in Sunshine, huh?”

“To be fair, you were drunk… honestly, you’re probably  _ still  _ a bit drunk, considering how inebriated you sounded,” Danse says, not judging Hancock as harshly as one might expect; after all, he’s seen plenty of his fellow soldiers from the Brotherhood of Steel get drunk before, and they were usually  _ much  _ worse than Hancock’s  _ ever  _ been while drunk, namely because they almost always wanted to go Mutant hunting. “In any case, I wouldn’t have let you do something like that, John.”

“I know, I know… doesn’t excuse me being a complete fuck up, though,” Hancock points out, sighing to himself, the weight of his depression making him feel crushed. “I just… I can’t seem to  _ stop. _ I keep tryin’ to slow down, to not stay high so much, to put in more  _ effort…  _ but it never works. I keep ending up back at square one, and everyone gives me shit for it, as if I even  _ like  _ being this trashed,” He looks away, eyes on the lake in front of him, something about the sight of water making his stomach churn. “You wanna know why I was out here, high as a cloud and more drunk than a sailor?” Hancock finally chances a look into Danse’s eyes, his gaze pleading, though he probably doesn’t realize it is. “I think I know, but the thought makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t… I don’t  _ want  _ to think about the fact that I’ve gotten this bad; I  _ want  _ to be better, but it feels  _ impossible!” _ He sighs again, this time without as much burdening him, the act of talking about his grief easier than holding it in forever. “I just wish… I wish I could get over myself, and stop crying about shit that I can’t change, but I can’t stop thinking about it all. My brother, my dad, Goodneighbor…” Again, he stares at Danse, struggling to keep from crying again. “I’m sorry you have to listen to me bitch and whine about pointless shit… if you need to walk away, I won’t hate you for it. If anything, I’d do the same, if I had the chance.”

Danse considers Hancock for a moment, and for the millionth time tonight, he finds himself having to make a tough decision. He knows, deep down, that he alone isn’t enough to pull Hancock out of the hole he’s in, and moreover, he understands that it’s not his job to do so. However, he’s very clearly being given a cry for help, and although he’s never been all that good at comforting anyone- not fellow paladins, not Scribe Haylen, not even  _ Sole-  _ he still knows he’s capable of giving  _ some  _ assistance. Danse and Hancock are in the same lifeboat at sea, the two of them left feeling hopeless and stranded by things beyond their control, and even if they think that committing suicide would be better than staying adrift at sea, there’s an island out there just  _ waiting  _ for them to find it. Maybe that island is Sunshine Tidings, or Goodneighbor, or somewhere or something else. In any case, neither man truly wants it to end, but they don’t see any signs of that island, so really, what’s the fucking point in looking anymore? Well, in Danse’s eyes, the  _ point  _ is that the sea is the sea, and while it’s vast and overwhelming, it is  _ not  _ certain death. Besides… he can  _ swim, _ can’t he? Both literally and figuratively, because really, this isn’t his first time dealing with depression, is it? The first time it tried drowning him, it was because of Cutler… and now, it’s because of the Brotherhood’s betrayal, and the truth finally revealing itself.

Danse stares almost  _ longingly  _ at Hancock, looking the ghoul over with military precision. Maybe, just maybe, they can get to shore together.

Slowly, Danse lays a hand on Hancock’s shoulder. When the ghoul looks up at him, confused, Danse bites down on a sigh, instead speaking his mind to the other man. “John…  _ Hancock,” _ He calls Hancock by the name he seems to like the most, hoping it will better help his case. “I’m not going to leave you… you piss me off to no end most days, and I doubt that will ever change, but I’m not going to stop caring about your well-being. Remember when you told me to act instead of just talk?” With such trepidation, Danse pulls the ghoul into his arms, hugging him close to his chest, not even caring that they’re naked anymore. “It’s going to take a long time… but honestly, I think we can get through this. One way or another, we  _ will  _ survive.”

It takes a few minutes for the words to sink in, but when they do… Hancock simply lays his head against Danse’s shoulder, something in him giving up on the fight tonight. Within seconds, the ghoul is sobbing, no longer caring about trying to look or act tough in front of him. Deep down, Danse honestly doubts this conversation alone is going to completely heal Hancock’s emotional wounds- whoever thinks that has never dealt with anything quite like this, and the solder hopes they never will- but he knows that with enough time, and patience, that the two of them can get themselves to something that vaguely resembles stability. They will  _ never  _ be perfect, but they don’t  _ need  _ to be, especially when they’re affiliated with an already incredibly strange group of people, some of which are just as mentally burdened as them; they’re just not here to talk about it right now. After the longest time of just enjoying the physical contact that Danse is so openly providing him with, Hancock pulls back a fraction, though not completely, as he seems to soak up affection like a sponge whenever it’s given. Almost shyly, Hancock glances up into Danse’s eyes, examining them for any sign of dishonesty or hatred, but when he finds nothing of that nature, the ghoul let’s out a long, relieved sigh.

“I… thanks, brother,” Hancock whispers, feeling blissed out after so many ups and downs in one night… at this rate, he should really consider visiting Curie for a medical examination, even if it means getting scolded for his frequent drug use again. “I know it probably doesn’t mean much, comin’ from me, but… I’m here for you, too,” He plants his hands on Danse’s dense shoulders, trying in any way he can to prove that he’s telling the truth. “You’re right; we’re gonna get through this bullshit. I guess it’s just… gonna be way fuckin’ harder than it oughta be, huh? Not like I haven’t faced impossible odds before… don’t know why it seems so fucking impossible this time around.”

“It’s a different  _ kind  _ of impossible,” Danse explains, finding it easier than Hancock to discuss how he feels, which is probably one of the weirdest plot twists he’s seen all year. “It’s one thing to shoot down armies of enemies or fight through a fortress of raiders… but mental health? I hate to admit it, but I don’t think the Brotherhood gave me any kind of training for this.”

Hancock chances a slight smirk, coming to rest his chin on Danse’s left shoulder, finding the position to be comforting. “We’ll figure it out,” He says, so very sure of himself, though Danse knows it to be the ghoul’s usual false confidence. He then pulls back again, glancing back at the nearby dock. “I’m exhausted, brother… maybe we oughta head back to bed, before the others wake up.”

“Good idea,” Danse agrees, even as he sees the first signs of sunrise on the horizon; he probably won’t get much sleep tonight, but he can’t bring himself to regret staying up with Hancock, especially when his presence was so necessary. “Go ahead, you can go first… I’ll just be, um, over here.” He can’t help but stutter, averting his gaze with no small amount of embarrassment.

Hancock just chuckles, shaking his head in exasperation. _“There’s_ the Danse I know,” He mutters, secretly appreciating the ex-paladin’s thoughtfulness. He scampers off of the beach, his body long since dry, so he has no problem yanking back on his clothes. “Too bad I didn’t actually wash up for all that long… guess I’ll have to take another bath tonight,” He flashes Danse a look over his shoulder, even though the other man isn’t looking at him, and winks devilishly at his back. “You gonna join me for that, too?”

Even though his back is turned, Danse doubts that the ghoul misses how red his skin turns. “I, um, only if you… only if you would be comfortable with it,” He says, before an exhausted yawn leaves his throat. Again, he blushes, embarrassed by the action. “On second thought, we might be better off getting some extra sleep instead.”

Hancock simply nods, internally agreeing that Danse is likely right; they’ve lost enough sleep as is. Once fully dressed, he turns to face Danse, shoving his pinkies into his mouth to better let out a long, loud whistle. “Ey, Dancer!” He bellows, his shouting enough to probably wake up the lighter sleepers of Sunshine Tidings. “I’m all done over here!”

“Will you  _ please  _ quiet down!?” Danse gives Hancock a dirty look, not appreciating his boisterous attitude in the slightest. “It’s a wonder that your roommates haven’t kicked you out yet, with how loud you are.”

“Oh, they’ve  _ tried,” _ Hancock admits, very proud of this feight. “‘Course, then they have to justify getting rid of me over  _ MacCready, _ and seein’ as he keeps startin’ shit… yeah, I don’t think they’ve got much leverage to warrant chuckin’ me out,” He then shrugs nonchalantly, again trying to come off as playful and uninterested. “But who knows? Maybe if I’m kicked out, I can room with you instead, brother!”

“Only if I’m allowed to trade you for X6,” Danse mutters, finally climbing onto the dock to gather up and put back on his clothes, quietly pleased by the fact that Hancock turns around to not be looking at him, giving him the same privacy as he was given. “I swear, if that machine gives me anymore flak for moving the furniture, I’ll take him out back and shoot him myself.”

“I’d like to see you  _ try.” _ X6-88 deadpans, voice as tight and emotionless as ever.

Both Hancock and Danse jump in surprise, the ghoul looking about ready to leap into the soldier’s arms, but he stops just short of doing so. Together, they look over towards Sunshine Tidings, finding Sole, X6-88, and Preston all awake, the lot of them carrying towels and fresh clothes in their arms. “Um… sorry, did we interrupt something?” Preston asks, trying to be polite, though it’s clear he’s very confused right now.

“Naw, you’re fine, Preston,” Hancock speaks for both him and Danse, making an effort to try and stand between Danse and the others, as he wants to give the ex-paladin more time to get dressed if he needs it. “Me and Danse here were just havin’ a little pool party, that’s all.”

“A pool party? At five in the morning?” Sole’s tone is dripping with disbelief, the look they’re giving Hancock one of great frustration.  _ “Please  _ tell me you two haven’t been up  _ all  _ night… it’s not like we’ve got any plans today, but you still shouldn’t be neglecting your health!”

“Look who’s talking Mr.  _ ‘I Can Go Three Fucking Days Without Sleeping’,”  _ Hancock snaps back, not the least bit intimidated by Sole’s disappointment in him. “Don’t worry, sibling, we’re headin’ right on back to bed… ain’t that right, Dancer?”

“Yes, we are,” Danse agrees, finally getting his shirt and jeans back on. The minute his clothes are back in working order, he let’s out a sigh of relief, before giving Sole an apologetic look. “Um… sorry for worrying you, Sole. Like Hancock said, we got distracted by talking for a bit, and I forgot the time. No need to worry, though; I’ll still fulfill my daily duties on time today.”

“I’m not worried about  _ chores  _ getting done, Danse… I’m worried about  _ you,” _ Sole corrects, not liking how Danse is treating their concern. “You guys are free to sleep in, you know; I’m not about to pass out orders like some kinda drill sergeant. Just… please, boys, be good to yourselves.”

“We will,” Hancock says, his tone tight, like he’s getting increasingly frustrated by this conversation, which he probably is. He then turns to Danse, taking the soldier a little too roughly by the arm. “Come on, brother, let’s get to bed.” He begins to more or less  _ drag  _ Danse away from the others, which is a rather…  _ ambitious  _ task, considering the size difference.

Thankfully for Hancock, Danse doesn’t make him do all the work, gladly following the ghoul away from the lake and back up the hill, his stomach in knots at the sensation of being touched. All this time, he’s kept drawing up all these touches and hugs to possibly hold a sexual undertone, which he really isn’t ready for. Back in the Brotherhood, if you touched skin-on-skin, it meant you were either receiving/performing first aid, getting/giving a medical exam, or you were having sex. But… touching can just be platonic, right? Danse won’t lie; he’s had attraction towards Hancock for some time now, whether he wants to admit it or not. However, considering all he’s been through and is currently going through, Danse knows he can’t handle a romantic or sexual relationship right now. Maybe someday, but not today. On the beach, when he had hugged Hancock, and when they’d been lying on the beach, both naked and practically cuddling… it wasn’t sexual in Danse’s mind, at least, not on a conscious level, and even if it  _ was, _ he wouldn’t have pursued it, despite the fact that Hancock would most certainly have agreed. Right now, and possibly for the next several months, Danse wants to keep things strictly platonic. It doesn’t  _ have  _ to be forever, especially if this whole  _ ‘recovery’  _ thing goes as smoothly as he hopes it will, but for the time being, Danse is content with just…  _ this. _

Once over the hill, Hancock stops in front of his own cabin, flashing Danse a smirk. “So, uh… thanks again for keepin’ me from doin’ something stupid tonight,” He says, gaze quickly becoming focused on his boots, the ghoul unwilling to look his companion in the eyes. “I’m sorry for puttin’ you in that position at all, man… I’ll try to ease up on usin’ for a bit, alright? Can’t guarantee I’ll go  _ completely  _ clean, but… I’ll take a break, just for you.”

Danse offers Hancock a small smile, chest warm. “I appreciate that, Hancock… I’m sure that everyone else will, too,” After a second of thinking, a light-bulb seems to go off for Danse, the soldier smiling a little wider at the thought. “Although I know you don’t like seeking Sole out for help most of the time… Cait recently got clean from Psycho, so perhaps you could ask  _ her  _ for advice?” He’s trying so hard to be helpful; he only hopes Hancock doesn’t take offense to it.

Hancock brightens immediately, giving Danse a wide grin. “Say, that ain’t a half bad idea, brother! So long as she doesn’t kick my shit in for talkin’ to her about it, I might ask her after all,” Rather affectionately, he pats Danse on the shoulder, again proving how much he relies on physical love in his relationships for both comfort and stability. “I’ll see you later on, alright? Try not to stay up too late wankin’ it!”

Danse huffs, lightly smacking Hancock’s hat off. “Don’t be so inappropriate; I’ll probably pass out the minute I lie down.”

“Just jokin’, just jokin’… no need to pull a muscle, Dancer,” Hancock says, laughing as he crouches down and retrieves his hat, putting it back on without a second thought. “Catch ya later, brother; don’t let the Radroach bite!” With that, he takes off into his cabin, not giving Danse any time to scold him again.

Once the ghoul is gone, Danse simply sighs, shaking his head in defeat. At this rate, Hancock is going to drive him to an early grave, but considering his current mental issues, it’s not like he’s avoiding it any better without him. Slowly, the soldier trudges back to his own cabin, doing nothing to be quiet on his way inside, seeing as he knows X6 is at the lake right now. Danse practically  _ collapses  _ into his bed, kicking off his jeans before squirming under the covers; he’d usually fold his pants, as it’s a habit he’s had for over a decade now, but he’s just too tired to care right now. To Danse’s thankfulness, it only takes a few more minutes before he’s unconscious, the ex-paladin drifting off into a dreamless sleep. By noon, he and Hancock will be up and moving again, the two of them going about their business as usual. Hancock will talk shit with Deacon, pester Nick while he does research on his latest case, and practice in the firing range with MacCready before dinner, while Danse will argue with Strong in the mess hall, exercise with Cait for a solid few hours, and have a few drinks with Preston and Old Longfellow at sunset. Their lives will continue on, and although the friends around them will never know the depths of their despair, Hancock and Danse will always know that it doesn’t matter… so long as they have each other, they’ll know they’re not alone, and they’ll still have a chance. And that, although it’s such a small thing, will be enough, if only until they can figure out how to survive.

_ "I didn't know you, when you were a kid _

_ But swimming with you, it sure feels like I did." _

**Author's Note:**

> This is longer than I ever intended it to be, and I’m half scared I made this too emotional/OOC, but fuck it, I really needed to vent through these characters, and in all honesty, I think it helped, even if it’s just a little. I really hope other people will enjoy this as well, and might even find comfort in it, too. If you’re struggling, please don’t hesitate to reach out for help; whether it’s from a friend, a family member, a therapist, a medical professional, or hell, even me if you want to, someone will be willing to listen to you, and they’ll help you as much as they possibly can! Have an amazing night, and if you liked this fic and want to see more, please let me know in the comments!
> 
> ((Also, please PM me on Tumblr (same username) to talk about these two because I’m desperate to talk about their potential relationship and no one but me likes Fallout 4 anymore.))


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